To Our Foreign Correspondents (Assumed Lost)

To my friends who lost their hearts from fighting wars or checking baggage, to my friends who lost their heads to fits of paranoia or sadness, to my friends who lost their souls or homes or credit cards or bones – you may stand to be forgotten or you could come around more often and we could get into the old shit – aimless drives and brand new music – you could let your young decrepit selves erode a little quicker and then bicker with the gods for being mean or you could scream your own name loudly, let the orange hills resound with the intensity of knowing how much power you do have.

To my friends who lost their magic or their bank accounts or sadly suffered through some bad relationship: when waking up, consider how much extra stuff you do that is so needless. Those that read this, feel a warmth tonight while sleeping. I am with you, if in spirit. You were made to have a meaning and when it is presented you must leap upon it.

To our foreign correspondents (with sixty two of you deemed lost) – if you’re gone, then just be gone. And if you aren’t, then please do not.